


Personalized

by Valeria2067



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Birthday, Dom/sub Undertones, Gifts, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-14
Updated: 2015-01-14
Packaged: 2018-03-07 13:41:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3175168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valeria2067/pseuds/Valeria2067
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What do you get the Consulting Detective who has everything?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Personalized

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Komorebi_desu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Komorebi_desu/gifts).



"Sherlock, can I see you a sec?"

"I’m fairly certain you can see me, John. You can also see I’m working."

"Working on what, exactly? You haven’t got a case. You’re obsessing over old evidence slides to distract you from what day it is."

"Why would I care what day it is? I’m no longer a six-year-old, John."

"No, you’re a thirty-six-year-old, as of 9 o’clock this morning. You only behave like a six-year-old most of the time. Put the microscope slides away and get out here. Now, please."

Sherlock’s lower spine shivered at the Captain Watson inflection of the last two words. How he loved —and hated— what that tone of voice could do to him.

"Fine, then," he growled. Sherlock switched off the microscope, adopted his best put-upon expression, and made a point of strolling as slowly as possible from the kitchen to the sitting room. He hoped John wouldn’t notice the slightly increased breathing rate or the dilating pupils. Yes, he was excited to think that John had something special planned. But this wasn’t about sex. This was a matter of pride, really.

Birthdays. Birthdays are boring. When would the people in his life learn?

John was waiting for him, a glint in his eye and a navy blue, unmarked gift bag in his hands.

"Yeah, I know, I know you couldn’t care less about your birthday. But you can’t stop me caring. I figure there’s no point trying to make you eat cake. So we’ll have to get right to the presents." John set the bag on the coffee table and pulled from it a smallish, square, felt-flocked box. "Here. Don’t worry; It’s not an engagement ring, but then you can probably tell by—"

"Too flat. A man’s size ring would require a box approximately 15 millimetres deeper—"

"Yes, okay. Just open it, already."

Sherlock lifted the lid. Inside was a white gold chain and a round pendant with a small diamond set into the centre. When he touched it, the face moved aside to reveal another layer: an image framed in white gold, just as one would see on the inside of a locket.

But this image was not what anyone else might expect. This was a photograph from a high-powered microscope. A photograph that made Sherlock smile despite himself.

"Red blood cells. That’s…kind of you, John."

"They’re, um," John cleared his throat slightly, "not just any blood cells. They’re mine."

Sherlock felt a tightness in his throat and chest.

"I had Molly’s help, of course," John continued. "I hoped you would like it. I just thought it was something you’d, well, appreciate."

"It’s beautiful, John."

"Not nearly as beautiful as its new owner, but it’ll do well enough. It’s not something you need wear every day. I thought it might be a kind of signal. Just between us. A sign that you want to—"

"Belong to you?"

John stepped closer, his body heat and his breath making Sherlock tremble. “Yes, Sherlock. When you want to be mine. Only mine.”

“Yes, John.”

"Shall I?"

Sherlock could only nod. John lifted the chain from its box and undid the clasp. “Kneel down for me.”

Without hesitation, Sherlock dropped to his knees. He closed his eyes and relished the sensation of John’s warm fingers and the cool metal against his sensitive nape and throat.

"You look perfect, Sherlock. So perfect for me. Now. I want you to take out the other gift in the bag."  
  
Near as he was, Sherlock only needed to lean forward to reach it. He removed a hardcover book with a cover photo of two nude men embracing.

The title was _The Gay Kama Sutra_.

John ran his fingers through Sherlock’s hair and tugged gently. “Close your eyes, and open it to any page. That’s what we’re going to do. Right now.”

For the next two hours, John and Sherlock explored and experimented, licked and sucked, moaned and screamed, and left no vertical or horizontal surface in the sitting room unused.

Not such a boring birthday after all, really.

 

**Author's Note:**

> A little ficlet for TheScienceofJohnlock's birthday. She gave me the prompt words Cake, Books, and Microscope.


End file.
